Overlooking Olympia on an early morning run. I was constantly stunned by Greece’s warm colors and atmosphere. (Oil on canvas, August 2024)

Dear family, friends, brothers, mentors, professors, and strangers,

It was hard for me to decide on how I wanted to share this with you. After many conversations with friends and several Word docs, I landed on telling my story as if I was having a conversation with you and if you were my newest friend – except it’s a one-way conversation, and my words are more punctual than how I normally speak. If you’re like me, you’ve probably already noticed that the scroll bar on this page is small. This blog is on the longer side. My former writing tutor brain has alarms going off, saying, “darn it, TJ, get to the point, nobody has time to read all this!” but I swear, even for how long the blog is, I made did my best to make every word count… even this paragraph where I try to prove that all these words are worth it. Now to the point: If you have about 16 minutes to talk, I’d love to tell you how my way of life has changed. It’s not all about me though; I hope you can learn something about yourself, too.

I tend to describe to my friends that my quest through Greece was transformational for me. I have a new and unstoppable motivation to go after everything I love with everything I have. Some conversations with mentors pushed me to follow my dream job of being an architect for museums and concert halls. Another conversation gave me newfound confidence in looking for my romantic partner. I also experienced what it feels like to walk through a Greek peristyle, swim under the Temple of Poseidon, and run in the first-ever Olympics. I made a promise to my fraternity to help everyone in knowing thyself and to teach my brothers the skills of empathy and vulnerability. And I even took some events out of my calendar to free up more personal time this upcoming semester. Those takeaways are the keynotes of the blog – more details to come later!

Shaking hands with SigEp’s grand president, Brad Nahrstadt when it was revealed that I am a Tragos Scholar. It was special to also share this moment with my exec team and chapter counselor (who was a previous Tragos mentor), BK, on the far right.

But first, I need to tell you exactly what this quest was. The Tragos Quest to Greece is a fully paid 10-day study abroad scholarship through the southern region of Greece with an immersive focus on philosophy, art, and architecture. There are about 13,000 undergraduates in SigEp, roughly 500 of which will complete the lengthy application, then 60 finalists are chosen, and 17 scholars are selected to go. In February of 2024, as Carlson Leadership Academy wrapped up with an award ceremony, a Tragos scholar reveal took place. When SigEp’s grand president, Brad Nahrstadt, announced the first scholar, I realized his introduction was based on my 11 very personal essays that I wrote. I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. I was going to Greece. I pulled my hair on those essays, vulnerably shared piercingly deep moments of my life, and really, really wanted to go to Greece. The first thing I did was call my mom and dad with the joyous news.

All the Tragos Scholars! This restaurant is a Tragos family favorite. I still remember today how awesome that meal was.

For a month leading up to the trip, we (the questers) individually did daily readings to understand how and why to apply ancient lessons into actions of our everyday lives. Some of my favorite topics were avoiding procrastination, embracing hardships, how a happy soul is balanced of sound mind and body, how to live a full life, the list goes on. On the trip itself, we would have morning readings with discussion and journaling prompts, then tour ancient sites, and end the day with more discussions or activities. Of course, there was also time for frolicking and adventuring all throughout. One of the major focuses of the quest was to understand eudaimonia, which I like to define as the lifelong dedication to living a balanced and happy life.

I describe the quest as very scholarly and studious (and it was), but really, the most special part was the people that were with me. Studying ancient Greece is one thing, seeing it is another, and both are things I could do alone and learn a lot from. However, when I look back on my quest memories, the most inspiring moments always came from my peers and mentors.

One conversation with my mentor, Darron Trobetsky, helped me determine what I want to do as a future architect. Darron shared how right out of college, he knew that he wanted to work for Nike. That was his dream job, and it was going to happen. He applied and was rejected. Were his dreams crushed? No! He sent in a thank you letter, got more experience, and came back later. The second time he applied, he was rejected again. He sent another thank you letter. I don’t remember how many times this process happened to Darron. What matters is that he knew what he wanted, and he was going to make it happen. He’s happily worked at Nike for 30 years now. His gratitude and consistency were some of his life virtues that took him a long way.

At last, I get to touch these ancient sites. That stone was very smooth and hot. Touch is my preferred love language of architecture.

When I heard Darron’s mindset was “I’m going to make this happen” instead of wondering “am I good enough”, I decided that I was going to do whatever it takes to make my own dream job possible. As an architect who loves concert halls, museums, nature visitor centers, public libraries, public schools, sacred spaces, and memorials, I decided that I want to design these projects and other projects along these lines. The more I thought about them, the more I pondered what they had in common. This led me to come up with a personal architecture mission statement that is encompassing of what I want my professional path to look like: “As an architect, I will be an empathetic leader that designs architecture with the virtues of serving nature’s diverse beauty, supporting lifelong learning in all walks of life, and responding to the needs and desires of the public.” You can visit my personal website www.tjdubler.com for more on that. I also thought about why I am doing architecture. I think it’s the perfect profession because of its creative range and how I will be able to shelter and share what others and I care about. I’m very excited to have defined my dream job and even more excited to start chipping away at it. One action I’ve already taken is creating an independent study about the history of classical music and concert hall architectural acoustic design.

That conversation about my direction in architecture happened on a bus ride. I think it’s funny that for being in Greece seeing these amazing sites and temples I’ve studied, and for it being my first time in Europe, somehow, I remember these bus conversations the most. Don’t get me wrong though, the sites were awesome, and I’ll talk about those soon. But first, I want to tell you about another heartfelt conversation I had with my mentor, Matt Dutcher.

Matt Dutcher and I had many pensive moments.

I was diagnosed with autism when I was 2 years old. I don’t usually share this with new friends right after meeting them; there’s so many nuances with being on the spectrum and I wouldn’t want anyone to put me in a box by accident. In fact, my parents didn’t even tell me I had autism until 9th grade because they didn’t want me to box myself! By the way, that worked out very well for me. The reason I am sharing this now is because I learned a valuable lesson about how I approach my life routines and relationships. In short, that lesson is to do it the way that works best for you. This is easier said than done and deceptively profound. This way requires you to know thyself! For me, my autism diagnosis is not something to define my limits, but a way of understanding why I do certain things in certain ways. I used to have the hardest time including myself in conversations, so I would write detailed, topic-specific note cards with conversation starters and other things I wanted to talk about. With this, I would be frustrated that I couldn’t just do it ‘naturally’, so I stopped with the note cards and tried my best to ‘flow’. This wasn’t authentically me and trying to ‘flow’ made it harder for me to socialize. On our bus conversation, Matt challenged me to embrace my unique ways 100% of the time. That’s a lot. A+, one could say. Really though, the rest of the maxim “know thyself” should be continued as “and be thyself”, which is a phrase often said, but now I get it. So, if I know that going to a loud bar will be an overstimulating place for me to start a conversation and not be my preferred way of finding a romantic partner (as is a societal norm), then I won’t do it. I’ll find my romantic partner in the library instead 😉 Mission I’m-Possible has begun.

The site of our ritual in Delphi. Behind us is the gulf of Corinth, preceded by 7.5 million olive trees.

In Delphi, Greece, we performed a ritual in which I made a promise to improve something about my home SigEp chapter. Standing on that cliff in Delphi, surrounded by steep, golden-lit mountains, overlooking 7.5 million olive trees along the gulf of Corinth, feeling the warm wind and hearing only the shuffle of brothers around me, I felt called to ditch my formal statement I had previously prepared and speak from my heart instead. I promised to bring the quest home and inspire my brothers to know themselves so they can be themselves and live their happiest lives. Related to this, I promised to teach my brothers the skill of empathy that I learned from volunteering at my campus’s Voice Center. Paired with this was a promise to challenge my brothers to be more vulnerable to themselves and to others. For me, I view empathy and vulnerability as tools to know thyself because of how you can learn to be empathetic and vulnerable with your (literal) self.

I’ve got one more thing to say on vulnerability before I tell you about some of the actual sites we visited. Vulnerability was the topic of discussion on the second night. The pool was glowing in the well-tempered air of the night and I could hear delicate piano music coming live from the hotel. I could have sat there forever. At some point, we decided to stop just talking about vulnerability and start being vulnerable. We did what’s called a candle pass: the person holding the candle shares something about their life, and we all actively listen. It’s not a time to get advice, unless it’s solicited. It’s a time to be empathetic, which I like to define as listening to understand, feel, and support. We did two passes: the first one was sharing something from our whole life that makes us happy, and the second pass was sharing something that has greatly pained us. I prominently remember how as people became more vulnerable after each person shared. Some of the people who went first actually said they wanted to go again because they wanted to share something deeper than they had before. It was a relief. There were laughs, and there were tears. And everyone was glad to bond with each other, despite going hours beyond our originally planned discussion; my journal entry that day was 1:45am. From that point on, the trip was strikingly personal, and these 20 people I had just met were somehow not strangers anymore. These conversations didn’t end that night. As I said before, much of the quest happened on the bus rather than at the picture-perfect sites.

After the ancient Olympian foot race.

Ancient Olympia was probably my favorite site. It was so hot, I was concerned that if I sat down for too long, I might fossilize into a piece of ancient debris. I was grateful for the occasional gust of wind, but not so much for the dust that was pelted into my legs and eyes. With my rigorous application of sunscreen and tendency to burn, this dirt was the closest I got to having a tan, but it went down the shower drain that same night. Although, the heat was dismissible with the adrenaline I was feeling. We were going to have a foot race at the site of the first-ever Olympic races from over 3,000 years ago, and I wanted to win – badly! We passed through a tunnel that opened to a wide, bowl-shaped stadium with not a lick of shade in sight. I tied my shoes extra tight, took a puff of my inhaler and wiped the sweat from my brow. We lined up, and the moments before the “Go!” felt infinite. We were off, and I began to imagine what it must have been like to be in this stadium when it was full of Greeks, yelling and cheering. This made me run faster. I also had the brief thought that if we were really running an ancient Greek race, we would be naked and covered in olive oil. But I’m glad we didn’t do that. The last few yards seemed so much further as the heat caught up to me and my lungs begged for air, but before I knew it, I flew across the finish line and couldn’t slow myself down. That was awesome. My victory prize was an olive branch laurel that my tour guide hastily tied up at a bus stop earlier that day, and I had been eyeing it. I loved how we did not just study the ancient Olympics and the Greek’s drive for a sound mind and body, we DID that!

My first time walking through a peristyle.

I was still smiling from the race when we got some free time to explore the ruins of Olympia. I remember feeling a sort of nostalgic connection when I entered the workshop of Phidias, the sculptor who expertly crafted the pieces of the Parthenon, among many other things. I also had a chance to walk through my first intact, authentically ancient peristyle which opened to a courtyard that would have been a gymnasium for training athletes. Feeling the sun beat down and looking at the rhythmic shadows of the columns that have stood the test of time, I slowly walked through and felt that I finally understood why the Greeks are just so epic – it was a feeling, not a fact. These columns were orderly and proud, and running the races and practicing the philosophy made me feel that I was an honorary citizen of ancient Greece myself. Being Greek is a mindset. This mindset inspired the very fraternity I am in, and the quest we were on, and it was all coming together. When I made my way to some shade looking out at these wonderous and mysterious ruins while I was still catching my breath, I felt a sense of belonging and pride that hasn’t left me since.

The Parthenon atop the Acropolis of Athens.

Another site that inspired me was the Acropolis of Athens, ironically because of how many gazillions of people were there. Usually, the crowds feel pestering, but if I was on the architecture team working on the temples of the Acropolis, I would be emphatically overjoyed to see that millions of people have stood in awe in these spaces for over 3,000 years. Just wow. The line to get in was epic in its own way too. Just how the bus rides held a lot of weight in our quest, walking up the hill of this high city was just as exciting as the destination itself. The walk, which is historically been called “The Sacred Way” was still full of people to the brim, and I entertained myself by imagining that I was part of an ancient Panathenaic Procession. That happened right where I was! Again, just wow. At the top, the Parthenon was covered in ugly scaffolding, but optimistically that means that this building is still worth the effort to maintain. That’s pretty ‘just wow’, too. The view of Athens from the top was stunning in how the city reached so far, which could be interpreted as a continuation of ancient agoras (which are gathering places with markets). And just like Olympia, it was fiercely hot with leg-pelting sand in tough gusts. I thought of Alexander the Great; these Greeks are some tough cookies.

Look at all the people who were in the Acropolis Museum with us!

The Acropolis Museum was just as crowded, which made me even more excited. I said earlier that I will one day be an architect for museums (among other things) and it made me excited to see just how many people, from crying children to seasoned travelers, wandered the museum in curiosity. People from all walks of life get to enjoy the space which just makes me so happy. I was there with the perspective of a future architect while someone else’s favorite part was the pottery, and maybe someone was just glad to spend a day there with a friend. All of it is heartwarming, even the people who hate museums (hi mom!) and now know about thyselves that they don’t care much for viewing ancient relics. I was happy to see how these beautiful Greek relics have been sheltered and shared in this wonderful museum.

I would also like to acknowledge that someone doesn’t have to be at the Acropolis to be inspired. Sure, the massive, dominating columns of the Parthenon are overwhelmingly powerful and will certainly satiate someone’s desire to be inspired, but anyone can find beauty anywhere if they look for it. In the town of Nafpaktos, we stopped for lunch and took a walk down to an ancient Mycenaean port. As you might have guessed, the heat was invasive, and when I saw the water of the Ionian see, it was suddenly irresistible. I quickly analyzed the clothes I was wearing and figured they would dry just fine, so I ditched my shoes and gleefully jumped into the sea. I did this a few times and the salty splash that engulfed my whole body never got old. Frolic! Two of my fellow questers and a mentor were amused by this, and because the conversation topic was on feeling everything, we did a practice of finding something beautiful and feeling it with all 5 senses. On my next jump into the sea, I emerged from the shore with a handful of small rocks and we analyzed their beauty, one sense at a time. They had exquisite colors of rusty orange, jade green, and reddish grays. As we moved them around in our hands, they made wet collision sounds like muted marbles. Most of them felt smooth from the continuous pounding of the sea, and I certainly felt the sharper pebbles on my feet. They smelled of wet dust with a hint of seaweed, and that prompted the last sense – taste. Yes, we did taste them. Salty. The point I’m making here is that this was just a random handful of rocks that were rich in many variations, and we were able to appreciate them for how they felt. I’m a believer in the saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, although I would modify that to say that beauty is in the eyes, ears, hands, nose, and tongue of the beholder. This thought is critical for me bringing the quest home to the brothers of my chapter because we can’t all go to Greece and see the Acropolis, but for sure we can all find a handful of rocks.

On top of the Acropolis, I am looking at the Parthenon. Behind me is Athens, and that hill is where we would be eating dinner later that night – see the next photo for that view!

Before I conclude, I’d like to share some ‘zinger’ quotes and maxims that were particularly inspiring to me. They speak for themselves:

• “We acquire the [moral] virtues… by doing them, and putting them into action, just as we do with the various arts or skills.” – Aristotle
• “Amusement is a kind of rest or relaxation. We need rest because we cannot work continuously. Rest itself, then, is not an end or goal; rather, we rest for the sake of further activity… In this way, Anacharsis’ maxim seems right: ‘Play and amuse yourself in order to be serious and busy.’” – Aristotle
• “We should remember that the future is neither wholly ours nor wholly not ours.” – Epicurus
• “Let no one put off studying philosophy when he is young, nor become weary of it when he is old, for no age is too early or too late for the health of the soul.” – Epicurus
• “While the others, who were struck with fear at the troublesome and steep nature of the one path, called on him to lead them along the long and smooth one, I, superior to the hardships, chose the steep and troublesome path – for the man speeding on to happiness must go even if it is through fire and sword.” – Pseudo-Diogenes of Sinope
• “Train yourself in self-imposed toils and hardships so that you may be able to endure those that are contrary to your choosing.” – Isocrates
• “If mere being, or mere living itself, is insufficient for living well – that is, if happiness demands fullness of life, and if happiness exists where nothing of the best life is lacking – then happiness can only exist in a being that lives fully.” – Plotinus
• “Perhaps it may be urged that sensation and consciousness or awareness are essential to wisdom and that happiness is only wisdom brought to act.” – Plotinus

One final group photo after our last meal together. The sun had just set over Athens, and you can barely see the Parthenon on the left side above Matt’s shoulder.

I’m reminiscing back to October 2023 when I submitted my application. The question that I had the muddiest answer to was “If selected for the Tragos Quest to Greece, what do you hope to gain from this experience?” My answer was along the lines of wanting further understanding myself, experiencing why the spaces of Ancient Greece are powerful, and seeking wisdom to find better ways to live my life. When I wrote that response, I thought it was a Hail Mary… there’s no way I can figure all that out, right? I had no idea that I would deeply discover so many things about myself and how I will live my life. While I don’t have everything figured out, I am confident in my direction and feel ready to embrace any changes that come my way. My life mission – which is a quest for eudaimonia – has begun, and it will not be in vain.

I have a very special thank you to say to Bill and Lili Tragos who have generously endowed this experience as a study abroad scholarship, and to Garry Kief who is heavily involved in funding. I also am grateful for the generous mentors who brought wisdom to the quest and all of whom spent the time away from their families. Thank you also to SigEp Headquarters and events staff who put careful effort into curating the best experience possible for us. I have heartfelt appreciation for all my closest brothers and my chapter counselor, BK, who have all pushed me to grow into the best version of myself and made my college experience the best it could be. And of course, I owe a major thank you to my parents and family who have unconditionally supported me through life and college, allowing me to grow into myself. Much love to you all. I am so grateful that I was one of only a few people who have been able to go on this quest, and I’m even more grateful that many more brothers will get to have this once in a lifetime experience in the future.